


Flying Home

by Kestral



Category: Masks: A New Generation (Roleplaying Game), Young Heroes of Halcyon
Genre: Gen, Visiting Family, aging/dying parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28301670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestral/pseuds/Kestral
Summary: One day in early December Fledgling took flight. It was a sunny morning, he felt longing gnaw at his chest, and the wind was right, so he turned into a canadian goose and made the journey home. It was time to visit his mom.





	Flying Home

One day in early December Fledgling took flight. He didn’t think to say goodbye to anyone, to give warning, to tell anyone where he was going or when he would be coming back. All his families before had such vague concepts of time and absence so it didn’t occur to him that anyone would worry. It wasn’t like he planned this ahead of time. It was a sunny morning, he felt longing gnaw at his chest, and the wind was right, so he turned into a canadian goose and made the journey home.

The sun crossed the sky faster than he did, and he roosted for one night before flying again. He knew this route with magnetic certainty. He’d heard others talk about homing pigeons, so perhaps he was a homing Fledgling.

The winter sun was low in the south when he arrived. It cast light like it was late afternoon even though it was only midday. The snow cover made the wide flat land looked empty, broken only by the lumps of occasional buildings and one dark line. There was no snow on the road, but on its sides great piles were heaped up. It had been plowed recently, and that knowledge surprised Fledgling. He’d learned so much since this summer. Before he would’ve seen the road clear of snow and not questioned how or why. Now he looked down and saw the answers.

He spiraled in on three buildings. One had a steeply peaked roof with snow cleared away from its doors and smoke coming up from its chimney. That building didn’t matter. Another was larger, red and rich in his memory with the scent of cows and horses. He’d visit that one later. The most important building was just a bit farther from the other two. No snow had been cleared away from it. The red paint peeled, there was a hole in the roof, and many small pawprints were pressed into the snow around it.

As the ground got close he slipped into a different form. He traded feathers for fur and wings and webbed feet for paws. He landed, adding his own set of pawprints. The sudden cold made him arch his back. The wind was cold too but his senses and nerves were all freshly rearranged and not prepared for the wet crisp sharp cold on the pads of his feet.

He forced his spine to relax and took a deep breath. On the air, beneath the scent of snow, was one of his favorite smells. A full smell, must, earth, hay and sweetness with so many notes that if he tried to describe it he’d need to turn to a metaphor of patterned fabric woven out of a rainbow of browns. His ears pricked up. He trotted forward with his tail held high in a happy exclamation point.

Ducking a little to pass through a hole in the wall, he entered the old building. His eyes quickly adjusted and all around he saw cats lazing about. They noticed him, and some reacted with surprise from a stranger entering their home. But the older cats recognized him. The youngsters relaxed as one of his nieces came over to greet him. They sniffed each other, then rub together, their upright tails bumping as they passed. Before he can get any further in she turned and started licking him. He bumped his head against her, feeling an inward amusement, and she licked his ears. She was right, he did smell different, even if he looked the same. He wasn’t going to be able to explain soap to her, and how hard humans worked to cover up their own scent. But she didn’t need an explanation, she just helped him smell right again.

Others approached, greeting him, but most went back to sleep. He liked that about this family. They all knew there was something about him, that he perhaps was not a cat in the same way they were cats, but he was cat enough.

Or rather, he reflected, _someday_ he would be cat enough. For now he was still too close to a kitten. He remembered when this niece was born, but now she was older than him and mother to others older than him.

He tried to get past her again and this time she relented, allowing him to greet the others. He wormed his way through the barn, looking for one cat in particular. Out of new habit he nearly tried asking a cousin where to find her. The only thing that stopped him when he opened his mouth was realizing that she had no name, followed closely by realizing that in this form he didn’t have words. He tried to pass off opening of his mouth as a yawn, and his cousin gave him a puzzled look.

He thought for a moment, then started looking in warmest parts of the barn, the places most protected from the wind that blew through the many holes. He found her in the corner of one of the stalls, sleeping in a pile of other cats.

After so long away, it was a relief to see his mom at all, but it was hard to see how time’s hand was heavy on her. Her fur was patchy and the bumps of her spine pressed against her skin as she lay curled among the other old cats. She was the oldest, the matron of the colony, and Fledgling loved her with a warm ache that went beyond the confines of his skin. A purr rumbled about his bones as he settled down next to her.

Even though he was trying not to wake her, her ears twitched and her eyes opened. She lifted her head up and looked over at him. He butted his head against hers. Comfortable and relaxed, he connected their minds, Afterburner’s training momentarily forgotten.

She didn’t have words, but she felt him and acknowledged he was back with a loving huff. What a wayward child, her child. She was happy to see him in good health. Not thin like he’d been last she saw him. He’d found good hunting grounds and she was proud of him for that.

He kept purring and showed her images of his newest family. She listened for a while, closing her eyes and offering her thoughts here and there. She was afraid at first, seeing him in a city around all these humans and others. But as he showed her more she relaxed. All these new creatures that gave him food, that taught him just like how she had taught him, that he hunted alongside. If they fed him, sheltered him, and loved him, she didn’t need to be afraid. Eventually her thoughts became muddled, the images and impressions he shared mixing with her dreams.

He had missed this: the simplicity, the lack of judgement. He withdrew his mind and felt a strange feeling of hurt. There was some emotional wound he’d taken that was still there, and it puzzled him as he discovered it. He tried to focus on it, like he was licking it. Why was he afraid of his new family judging him? Had they not proven over and over again that he was welcome? They never rejected him even once, why was this fear stuck in him, knotted and pulled tight right next to his heart?

He found the answer, then shied away from it. He stopped licking the wound and instead sniffed his mom’s coat. Breathed her scent in and out, until he went to sleep.

The sun set. He slipped out along with many others to go hunt. As some headed for the barn or out into the fields he leapt into the air and beat his wings. A tabby, one he wasn’t sure how he was related to, jolted back, seeing him become an owl. She watched with her eyes wide as he flew away on silent wings to seek better hunting grounds.

He followed the road, heading toward the spot where the sky glowed. Humans, with their daylight eyes, always lit everything around them. The lights meant humans, and humans meant trash, the trash meant rats.

The settlement he found was _way_ smaller than Halcyon. The buildings were short and there was only one street of shops. But there were dumpsters and building that smelled like food, which was all he needed. He noticed there was a sign that said “Main Street.” Halcyon had a Main Street. If he remembered, he’d ask if they were related when he got back.

He looked for a place to land. All the trees shined, brilliant with lights. An owl would attract too much attention. Humans found owls very exciting. He circled Main Street, then flew a little ways away. He found a dark place behind a house and turn back into a cat, then made his way to the alleyway behind Main Street on foot.

He was glad no one in his family could see him hunt. He was out of practice. After letting a rat run over his paws a few times he remembered what he was doing. He ate tucked into the shadows behind a building, then hunted for more to bring home.

He dropped two rats from his talons then landed and picked them back up in in mouth, bringing them inside the barn. He gave one to his mom, then brought the other to his great niece. While she ate he cuddled with her kittens, keeping them warm and entertained.

The darkness deepened. His great niece took back her place, shoeing him away so that she could feed her children. He wondered what time it was. Sunset was around 4, but he wasn’t sure how long it’d been since then. With a jolt he realized how strange it was that he wondered that. He was changing, and changing fast.

He got up and paced. _I’ve changed before,_ he thought. His tail lashed and other cats looked up. They looked around, trying to see what alarmed him. _I change all the time. I’ve become something new so many times. I was still a cat after I was a wolf, even if I was a different cat. This is the same._

He didn’t believe that, so he tried again, firmer this time. _I’m still me._

He looked around and saw all the shining eyes staring at him. He wished he could ask them if they thought he was still him.

Before he could dwell, he heard the crunch of footsteps through the snow. He turned, alert in the direction of the sound, and realized that someone was approaching the barn doors. He looked around and saw that everyone else was focused in that direction as well.

The footsteps reached the barn and stopped there. Then, with scuffles and grunts, someone started trying to open the door. Everyone darted into the shadows, so Fledgling did the same. As the door inched open, he realized that his mom would be slow to move. He leapt from his hiding place and over to her side. If someone was here to mess with his family, they were in for a real surprise.

With panting breath and another grunt, the door opened more. The human tried to squeeze through. Her puffed winter coat caught on the door frame and she backed off, then tried again. As she got caught on the same splinter of wood and turned about, trying not to rip her coat, Fledgling had plenty of time to observe her.

She was a child, or perhaps a very short human. Between her hood being up and the scarf wrapped around her face, he couldn’t see much of her. He could tell that the snag wasn’t the only thing making it hard for her to squeeze through, she had something tucked inside the front of her coat.

The tension in the barn relaxed by a few hairs. Whoever this human was, they knew her. They were all too feral to go up and greet her, but the watchfulness carried caution, not fear.

She made it through and gave a final huff, glaring at the splitter of wood that had caused her so much trouble. Then she turned her attention to the great open space ahead of her.

“Okay,” she said in a whisper that wasn’t quiet. Her voice had the round squeak of childhood, with many of the consonants fat on her tongue. “Mom and Dad said I need to stop feeding you, but it’s _Channukah_ and so it’s only right that you get to celebrate too.”

Out from under her jacket she pulled a gallon ziplock bag. She knelt down and opened it, and into the air rose the smell of roast chicken.

The younger cats were the first to move in. She took off one of her mittens and pulled out a piece, handing it to the first cat who approached her. He took it and dashed away. She giggled, then pulled out another piece of meat for the next cat.

He didn’t need anymore food, but his mom did. He crept over. He knew he had nothing to fear, but he didn’t want to stand out by trotting up. He joined the growing crowd around the human.

“Wait your turn, good kitty,” she said as she continued passing out food. And to his surprise, they all did. One stepped forward at a time.

A few moments later, it was his turn. “Oh!” she said as he stepped up. “You’re new!”

He looked up and froze. The scarf had fallen down from over her nose and mouth, and from this angle he could easily see up into her hood. He’d looked in the mirror plenty of times at the Fort. This small human didn’t have the exact same face as him, hers was rounder where his had sharpened, and she didn’t have any hairs on her upper lip or chin. But her sandy brown curls, her sharp nose, the dusting of freckles that had paled by the dark of winter, those was all mirrored.

“Hey kitty, there’s nothing to be scared of.” She smiled, revealing a gap in her teeth where new ones were growing in. He felt a touch on his mind, a calm coming from outside him. Immediately he pushed it back.

“Oh,” she seemed surprised. “You’re, you’re not-“

He grabbed the chicken out of her hand and ran away.

He hid for a while, well after she was gone, before remembering that he’d taken food for his mom.

She hadn’t moved from her spot in the corner of the stall. With effort she got to her feet as she smelled him coming with chicken.

Worn out in ways he struggled to understand, he dropped the food in front of her and sat down to watch her eat. It was a comfort to be with her, with his mom. She was too old to protect him from anything, but love was irrational like that.

She ate slowly, slow enough to make him worry that her teeth were bothering her. If they were, this visit would be the last time he saw her. He’d seen family members starve to death because they couldn’t eat before. The love in his chest gently brushed fingers with grief.

There was no point in grieving her now. Someday, likely soon, she would be gone. Now she was right in front of him and as soon as she finished eating he started grooming her. Combing through her fur with tongue and teeth.

He thought she’d fallen asleep, but when he finished she got up and started grooming him. As she licked his face he noted with relief that there wasn’t anything rotten in her breath. The relief melted into alarm as he noticed how she kept shifting her feet, like standing hurt her.

_Mom!_ he cried out, forgetting for a second that he couldn’t talk to her like how he talked to humans. _It’s hurting you! You don’t have to do this._

He winced, expecting her to startle away. Instead she paused licking to rub her cheek against his. Her response was so clear it was nearly words. _Hush. I’m taking care of you. You’re my kitten; I’m not done taking care of you._

He couldn’t argue with her on that.

Epilogue:

After four days of gathering food and avoiding the strange human child, he flew home. Again he had to roost once along the way, and he arrived back in Halcyon in the late afternoon. The wind had not been in his favor for the last part of the journey, and he was tired as landed outside the Fort.

As soon as he shifted, his communicator started buzzing. It was receiving message after message now that it had come back into existence. He sighed and went inside the Fort to read them. No sense in spending a lot of time reading out in the cold.

He passed through the common room, heading towards the hall that led to his room. Slowly he sounded out a message from Hydroboy.

“Whu-er, where, the, fuuu-ck, fuck, aaaaaare” he muttered.

“Fledgling?” Hydroboy called out. “Where the fuck--”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes Fledgling did skip school, and at the very end of the semester too. Everyone really thought they had adequately explained finals to him but noooooope!


End file.
